Miscellanies (1785) | ||
IV.
The heart was hurt—It could no more—Along each finer nerve swift shot the misery,
Even Nature shed her pensive shower;
The mighty Mother wept, alas! with me:
14
(Mix'd universal with our human clay)
And wish'd she could a second birth bestow
On this her Representative below.
But, ah! it might not be,
So the rich debt was paid, to poor Humanity.
Miscellanies (1785) | ||